Sleepless Nights
by wirewrappedlily
Summary: Sometimes getting Tony in bed is harder than others. But it's always worth it. Steve/Tony T for language.


"No. No! _No!_" Steve put one hand out, splaying over my chest. We both looked down at it, his removal more of a flinch as I looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, "You take my computer _and_ molest me? Low, Rogers. Real low."

Steve snorted, his dimples showing, trying to get me to forgive him. "It is five o'clock in the morning, you are going to bed, and I am going to work."

"B-But! But I-"

"No. No buts. You're starting to look like I punched you in the eyes, love; you need to go to sleep." I pouted for all I was worth, my lower lip quivering of its own accord, and his smile softened, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me into his side gently, "See? All I have to do is hug you and you're half-asleep."

I shook my head, but leaned into his warm, solid side, really regretting not stealing snuggles, "I'm not tired." I realized as I said the words that I was rubbing my left eye like a sleepy baby, and Steve was throwing this victorious and adorable little smirk at me from under his lashes. The _evil_ _bastard_. "Shut up." I scowled, pouting again.

"You know you turn into a six-year-old when you're sleepy? It'd be cute if it weren't so annoying." I narrowed my eyes and he mirrored the expression, making it ridiculous to mock me. "Now, why no sleep?"

"I'm busy. Give me my computer back!" I tried-oh, so futilely-to reach around his body, but he was having none of that, flattening and straightening and working out all slouch until he was an impossible mountain of person between me and my computer. My eyes were narrow again, "I hate you for being taller than me, I've said this; I know I have." Steve snorted, shaking his head, "Please, give me my computer-" He kissed me. The over-sized, meanie-head cheater kissed me to shut me up. And it was totally working.

"Bed. Now." He growled, making it completely unfair. I snaked a hand behind him, groping his ass once, hard, and watching the shock pass gratifyingly over his face before his eyebrow raised high, challenging.

"I will continue to molest you-"

"We both know this is going to end up with you in bed anyway-"

"Not happening, lover boy-HEY!" In one smooth movement, Steve had set down the computer, bent over, and scooped me over his shoulder, carrying me away from the nest of coffee cups, leftover containers, and headphone debris I'd built myself on the couch as I'd worked.

Steve grumbled and sighed as I shrilly tried to get him to put me down, only complying to fling me off his shoulder backwards onto the bed. I bounced once, the soft cushion already working unholy magic on me.

Softly, Steve leaned over, kissing my eyelids closed, then my lips, soft and so barely there it was like a dream. "I'll see you tonight. Sleep well." He kissed my forehead, and I was so far gone I could only put up a token protest as he scooped me up bridal-style to straighten me out on the bed and cover me up. There was a residual warmth in the covers, and I curled into it helplessly, pulling his pillow towards me. He laughed softly behind me, rubbing my back with a warm, strong hand. He didn't mind, I liked it because it smelled like him; he liked letting me keep it because it made it smell, just a little bit, like me.

"Come back?" I mumbled pitifully into the pillow. It was a low blow. I was the one that had decided to deprive us both; and here I was, asking him to give up on his duties for the day; to stay here and lie with me even though he'd gotten his rest and was ready for his day.

Steve heaved a sigh, and I could hear the rustle of fabric from him standing and getting ready to le—to slip into bed, naked, behind me, curving around my back and holding me close.

As a general rule, he wasn't allowed clothes in bed, not that he followed that rule nearly as much as I wanted him to. But now, his cheek was pressed against my shoulder blade, his hand resting protectively over the arc reactor. My hand reached up to meet his, a little loosening, "One second," I sighed, slipping out of his hold for a moment, undoing my jeans and pushing them off. I wanted as much skin as I could get, even if I would be asleep while touching it. I started to slip out of my shirt, and his breath caught. I didn't usually do this. Scars on my chest that I would never be used to or okay with made me feel like a monster when compared to how gorgeous he was: as a general rule, I didn't show them, and Steve didn't touch them.

He wanted to; he wasn't under the impression they were as horrendous as I felt they were. He'd seen them, and he got that look in his eyes like he wanted to kiss them all away, every time he caught me sinking into my own head when faced with all his perfect skin.

And now I was taking my shirt off, willingly, in front of Steve. "Tony…"

I shook my head silently, sliding back down against him, curling into his arms and pressing as close as I could. "I'm tired, Steve."

Tired of the work, tired of the mask, tired of being anything and everything that I was beyond being a person, in love with the person in bed with me. I needed a break I would never get, and we both knew it.

There was a saying Rhodey liked to band out with his speeches on self-respect and brotherhood: The army does more before seven AM than even I could do in a day.

But, in the bare and early hours of the morning, if I just woke for a moment and traced Steve's lips with mine, it would be more than enough, and it wouldn't kill a soul.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so, I am so very, very sorry I haven't been updating. I've been having a bit of a fall-out going on between my brain and my hands, so typing anything remotely good for any of my stories is such a battle that I am going insane. **

**There will be more of Sky High and Super soon, I promise; and there's a fic for a friend's birthday I am tearing my hair out trying to get to a better calibre of writing: that will come hopefully in the next two days (in time for her birthday).  
**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoy this.  
**


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